Loss of Head, Loss of Heart
by contentment is beautiful
Summary: Emma doesn't know why she winds up in front of Regina's house almost every morning, and Regina's not going to tell her.
1. Chapter 1

She's doing it on purpose.

She's sitting in the cafe with Neal and she's doing it on purpose. She's smiling at him on purpose. She's ordering her favourite drink and she's wearing her favourite scarf and her eyes are bluer today than usual. Maybe because of the weather.

Maybe because she's happy.

She has to know what she's doing, right? She's a smart woman. She's intelligent (though admittedly impulsive) and she's capable (under most circumstances), so she must realize that even being this close to me, even reminding me of her existence (though the thought never quite disappears to begin with) is coming close to killing me.

I remind myself that she's enchanting. And why shouldn't she be? She was born a savior, our savior, and power like that naturally attracts people to it.

_So then where are my people? Where is my attention?_

Why isn't she ordering something to eat? Why does she adopt the strangest eating habits? Why do I notice these things?

I don't. I can't. I won't.

But still...she must know what she's doing.

Yes...yes. She's doing it on purpose.

* * *

I bet she thinks I did this on purpose.

She's got her body cocked to the side _just_ _so_ while reading the newspaper. Why does the mayor need to read the newspaper? Surely she knows better than anyone what's going on in the land she practically created. Maybe it's for show. That's my most likely guess. Especially when her eyes rove over to me when she thinks I'm not looking. Peripheral vision. Got to love it.

Have you ever...god, this is going to sound ridiculous.

Have you ever locked eyes with someone and had a jolt throughout your body...immediately followed by some sort of gravitational pull in their direction? Like your soul sees something that the rest of the world cannot in this other person, and you absolutely have to get to the bottom of it as soon as possible, or the world you've created for yourself will begin to crumble piece by pathetically misshapen piece?

Leave it to me to make attraction sound like an investigation.

Neal is here because he saw me walking in and decided to join me. Granny asks me what I want and I say the usual, as usual, because I am the only usual thing in this unusual place. But I suppose that's not entirely true.

My parents are Prince Charming and Snow White.

That's another reason there's a target painted in my mother's blood on my back. Regi-er, the Mayor, she hates my mom. I've been told one side of the story before, once, I think? Maybe...I can't remember. I try not to linger too long on the politics of everyone's enemies. It seems like there's new alliances and defiances popping up each time I turn around.

Reg-damn, the Mayor, she's getting up to leave now. It's only then that I see her designer shoes completely. Those boots. I remember those...

"_What are you doing here, Miss Swan?"_

"_I have to talk to you."_

"_Well, if you must. Here, take yours shoes off and rest them next to mine, I don't want you tracking mud in."_

"Emma?" Neal's concern snaps me out of it. I'm grimacing, I can feel the features of my face have contorted. My right hand is tangled in the hair close to my brow, rubbing at my temple.

"Sorry..." I hear myself apologizing. I clear my throat to remove the scratchiness; take a long gulp of the coffee Granny must have laid out for me sometime during my reverie.

"Do you space out a lot now or is it just your company boring you?" he asks playfully. I roll my eyes a bit. I don't want to be here. I do want this coffee, though. Maybe even dessert. I avert my half-lidded gaze over to the counter and realize the mayor has frozen in place, her eyes locked on me, her jaw unhinged just far enough to leave a surprised gap between her lips. Her lips. That shade of red...

"-so that's all I wanted to say on the subject. I hope you understand."

I look back at Neal. He looks at me. His expression is expectant and a little too vulnerable for my liking. Shitfuck, what was he saying? How can I make it sound...? Oh, got it.

"I do. Completely." Nice save, Swan.

He grins, a little side smile that I remember used to melt me. But now, for some reason, as a breeze brushes my hair to the side, I subconsciously turn for the source of the air and inhale, watching a womanly figure in all black escape out the front door and smelling nothing but the faintest hint of apples...and it is all I seem to hold on to.

* * *

Regina sat behind her desk listening to the clock ticking beside her. Time was such a funny thing; so tricky. It required patience. And if there was anything Regina had, it was patience.

But both of these things seemed to be running out.

Why had Emma brought Neal to the cafe with her? Didn't she know she was to be meeting her? Didn't she remember?

She racked her brain for reasons Emma could have chosen not to sit with her. She had moved on? No. Technically speaking, there was nothing to move on from. She had been wanting to hurt Regina? Emma didn't seem the type. She ran into Neal and he asked her for a bite upon walking in, and to avoid appearing suspicious she had to say yes?...Hmm, maybe.

The silence was far too loud for the mayor of Storybrooke, and the ticking clock seemed to get more and more insistent. She allowed herself to slump low in her seat, kicking off her heels and wiggling her toes for a moment of relief.

"Your little bird stood you up today, didn't she?" an accented voice from her left resonated through the room. She gave a startled gasp and leapt a bit in her seat before catching herself. She frowned, sitting back up and slipping her boots back on.

"What do you want, Mr. Gold?" she asked through closed eyes. She didn't even bother looking at the man at this point. He already knew she was fed up with him.

"I think the better question, dear, is what do _you_ want?"

She slowly opened her eyes, glaring at the man that chose to take a seat in the elegant chair in front of her desk. His brass cane tapped at the marble floor and threatened to knick the claw foot of his furniture of choice. They both waited in the deafening silence. She was not going to be the first to speak.

"You didn't give her the potion this morning," Mr. Gold said as he polished the head of his cane with the sleeve of his well-ironed shirt.

Regina's jaw clenched. Her eyes were unmoving. How the hell did this man know that?

"I have nothing to explain to you, Mr. Gold, and I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't come in so completely unannounced next time."

Regina thumbed through her paper work, shoving the glasses on hastily that she kept on a silver chain around her neck. They slipped a bit on the bridge of her nose as she pointedly looked up at the man still sitting in her chair with a smug smirk on his face. She felt the desire to roll her eyes overwhelm her. She hated that god damn look.

"Amissio caput is not a concoction I create lightly, Mayor Mills, and for good reason. I suspect you knew when I was giving it to you that it was something that required quite a bit of sacrifice."

"Yes," groaned Regina, "I am aware of that. What do you want, hmm? What else could you possibly take from me? I have nothing left to give."

"Ah," the old man crooned, his teeth shining in the bright light of the room, "precisely."

Regina inhaled deeply, willing herself to have enough patience, the characteristic she swears by, to deal with the riddles of an old man for just a little bit longer.

"Okay, I'll bite. What are you talking about?" she asked, cocking her head to the side while doing her best to appear intrigued. She had to admit, a small part of her was. But the majority of her loathed that this man knew her dirtiest secret. And that secret was currently wearing her scarf in the local restaurant downtown.

"This potion does not work the way you seem to think it does, Regina," Mr. Gold stated knowingly. "I told you when I gave it to you that-"

"Yes, I know, all magic comes with a price. Believe me, I am completely aware of that fact." Impatience was a disease. Regina knew that. Keep your cool. Exude perfection. Everything in time.

Mr. Gold gave a thin smirk, as if he was considering whether or not to tell Regina what he had traveled there to say in the first place. The brunette tossed her hair to the side and eyed him expectantly. Her legs were crossed at the heel and her hands were folded politely in her lap. She was a queen no matter what anyone said, and she held herself to those standards at all times.

"Once you started slipping that red potion into Miss Swan's wine, it became connected to her. It memorized her mind. It is not science, Regina. It is magic. It finds every little piece of you floating around in that pretty head of hers and poof!," he bumped his cane against the mahogany desk, startling Regina enough for a look of anger to fleetingly cross her features, "everything the two of you shared within those numbered hours are gone."

"I know this," Regina replied through gritted teeth. "Honestly, Mr. Gold, if you wanted to have a pow wow about our love lives we could have met over dinner."

"Do you have much of one, then, dear?" he asked seriously. Regina's throat tightened. Her smirk faded. _Keep your cool. Exude perfection._

"Is it love when the woman who comes to you doesn't remember a thing the two of you share? Is it love if she crawls into your bed to keep you warm at night, only to leave in the morning with no recollection of why she was in front of your house the moment her feet hit the pavement off of your property?"

Regina leapt up and leaned forward menacingly, scooting the chair so far back it clattered to the ground with a crash.

"How DARE you insinuate that what we share is...is..." her voice faded, her composure insisted on being well-kept. This is what _she_ did to her. This is what loving Emma made her. Irrational. Emotional. Reactive.

A fool.

She cleared her throat lightly, tugging her button up shirt back into place and smoothing out imaginary wrinkles in her pinstripe skirt. She looked up at the man who had gotten under her skin with only a few well placed words.

"...that what we share is any of your business, Mr. Gold."

The older man nodded with a sort of satisfied air about him. Still, Regina could tell he wasn't done. But God, she was.

"If there's nothing else, Mr. Gold, you know where the door is. I'm assuming you can see yourself out just fine, seeing as how you had no problems letting yourself in."

The man gave a terse laugh, nodding his understanding. "I suppose I shall, then."

The click-clack of his cane and foot falls made their way further and further away. He reached out, his hand on the iron door handle when he stopped at Regina's interruption.

"Oh, and Mr. Gold?"

He turned to her then, expecting something, anything other than what he was about to hear.

"Yes, Mayor Mills?"

The woman quirked her head to the side, something she was known to do when she was thinking. Her brows furrowed together behind the black rims of her glasses.

"You had said 'the red potion', but the amissio caput I give to Emma isn't red."

Mr. Gold paused, his back straightening with the new information as he stared back at the younger woman before him, puzzled.

"Well if it isn't red," he said, rather unkindly, "then what colour is it?"

Regina eyed him curiously, unsure why he didn't seem to believe her. "Well it started out red, at first, but it hasn't been for weeks. It's...purple now. A deep, deep purple."

Mr. Gold's face hardened for a moment as realization dawned on him. He snapped himself out of it immediately, though, and forced a wide smile at her.

"Right, of course. Well have a good day, Mayor. I'll be seeing you around, I'm sure."

And then the door was quietly shut.

Regina waited a moment before slumping back down and slipping out of her shoes again. She closed her eyes and rubbed at a sore spot at the back of her neck. Not for the first time she wondered what had the man acting so oddly.

"I wonder what the hell that was all about?..."


	2. Chapter 2

_The Past:_

"_I can't take it anymore, Regina! You sit there in your privacy with your secrets and I'm over here flailing like an...like an idiot, trying to understand you. Trying to compromise. Trying to wait for the day that you'll open up."_

_Regina barely twitched an eyebrow. She gazed out the window-looked straight passed the thick glass and out at the moon that seemed larger than usual that night. Full. She heard a wolf's howl in the distance._

"_I am giving everything I can, Emma," she whispered. The comforter bulged at her bare breasts, covering them as she indignantly crossed her arms. She was nude under the sheets above her, having only just finished making love to the now exasperated woman in front of her a mere fifteen minutes earlier. _

_That was the thing about them. There was too much passion and they were too different to understand one another. Where Regina was heads on the coin of life, Emma was most certainly tails._

_Emma bit her lip and stared hard at the two peaked points of Regina's sheet-covered knees. There were a million thoughts running through her mind, each one louder than the one before._

"_I know," the blonde finally squeaked out. Regina smiled sadly, her head shaking slightly as she turned her attention back to her lover. She took in Emma's defeated posture. The way the over sized T-shirt clung to bits and pieces of her and gathered sluggishly in other sections. _

_She may be broken, but she sure was beautiful._

"_Do you?" she asked solemnly. Emma's eyes raised. Incredulous. Heart broken. And then Regina saw it: _

_Devastation._

_It was shining in the corners of her lover's blue-green eyes. It was locked up in the black drop of the pupil. It was in the spidery blood vessels that were welling with emotion. It was in the quivering lip she was hiding by means of her teeth chomped over flesh. It was the way every part of her was still, save for her fidgeting hands in her lap that were twisting at the bed sheets._

_The dam broke and flooded inside Regina's chest. She was killing her. She really, truly was. The woman she loved more than anything on the planet was morphing into just another thing she would touch and shatter._

_Emma's jaw unlocked and bobbed up and down as she fought to find the proper terminology. What do you say when you know you've been caught? What do you do when your best isn't enough?_

"_Regina...baby, I am __**trying**__," she finally relinquished, her voice cracking at the end._

_Regina wanted to cry, but she wouldn't. She wanted to stop everything, but she couldn't. She wanted to wrap her arms around the blonde, wanted to wrap a noose around her neck for knowing she was stripping Emma of the very wings that made her a Swan. It was as if with each withheld piece of information, with each call that went unanswered, with every plan she had to cancel, she was plucking her feathers, one by one._

_She was in love with this woman...could she really let that continue to happen?_

_Emma would let her. Emma thought she was strong enough to take it. But here they sat, Regina's emotions lodged in her throat as Emma tugged at the now fraying ends of the comforter. They were both masters of masks, but at the end of the day, who would wear it better?_

_And then, Regina had an idea. One she knew would cost her everything. But maybe, if she executed it correctly, it could save her beautiful savior._

"_Come here, beautiful. Come lay with me. Let's fall asleep together."_

* * *

Regina sat in that same bed now. Alone. A glass of Merlot rested elegantly in her hand as she remembered the last night she and the blonde had spent together as a couple. The last time they were in a true, albeit secretive, relationship.

Emma didn't show up that night. She told herself that that was a good thing-that maybe Emma's subconscious was healing again. Maybe she was forgetting her again. And that was good. That...was good...

Right?

_Of course,_ Regina thought to herself. _It's what's best for her. Being free of me is what's best for her. I have done enough damage._

The mayor of Storybrooke was a vault no matter who she was with or what the circumstance. Every time she let love in, it ruined her. And the people she loved didn't escape without being completely damaged themselves.

She remembered the first time she met Emma. Strong and capable and loyal. Blonde hair down to there, eyes that made you want to tell the truth, and a heart that was caged behind a heavy padlock (for it bled easily). The woman had caught Regina right by the mind, and then by the heart, and slowly the mayor began developing feelings she hadn't allowed herself to feel in ages. Not since her first love, who she had sworn would be her last.

But then...Emma.

When she had made the decision all those months ago to wipe Emma's memory of the two of them, she had done it selflessly. She didn't want to hurt the person she loved any longer. She didn't want to be yet another person's breaking point.

It had worked at first. She went to Mr. Gold, voice tart and terse as she explained what it was she desired. The only thing he had asked for in return was a future favor. She was hesitant at first, for his favors often ended in disaster, but then soon realized: what could be more disastrous than being responsible for her lover's undoing?

So she accepted through clenched teeth and sweaty palms; her brow furrowed and beaded with the sweat of nerves. The man fumbled around in a medicine cabinet in the back of his store that creaked and groaned when he opened it. He had fiddled his fingers and then plucked the potion out from the upper left hand corner. The burgundy liquid sloshed and gleamed with a silvery quality, as if it had been dipped in a sheen of silk. She pocketed it after gazing at it momentarily.

"Slip it in her cabernet sauvignon when next you dine, and the love you two share will be..." he waved a mystical hand in front of her face, "erased entirely."

She had kept her distance from Emma that next day. She knew if she had contact with her, she would break. She craved the goodness she found in her lover's heart; it almost kept her cold soul warm. But she knew the longer she let Emma stay in love with her, the darker and more frigid her partner would become. And she couldn't allow that to happen.

Emma was born to live in the light, and Regina was casting too steep of a shadow.

That night she had made dinner. Lamb, asparagus, mashed potatoes, and buttered rolls. Emma had a thing for bread, so Regina always made sure to keep it warm and fresh for her.

She paused as she realized she hadn't bought a loaf in months.

Emma had come in that night, shaking off the wind and rain. She hung her jacket and hat on the coat rack, took in Regina's simple black dress and cupped her cheeks, smiling as she leaned in for a soft, sweet kiss. Regina felt that lump in her throat form again.

Would that be their last kiss?

She pulled back but refused to make eye contact, leading them both into the dining room. Her fingers tangled their way through her partner's. This would probably be their last bit of contact.

Emma sat happily as she insisted on water for their meal, claiming that, despite the rain outside, she was feeling a bit dehydrated.

Dinner went smoothly, and passed by much too soon. Of course Emma had saved room for dessert, she always did, and as Regina pulled out the apple tart she had prepared for them both, she poured their wine in silence. She flicked her wrist subtly and listened as a book from the living room fell from the shelf with a great thud, causing Emma to jump. Regina held back the twitch of a smile at her lover's reaction.

"Darling, will you go see what that was for me, please?"

Immediately Emma straightened her shoulders and puffed out her chest, ready to protect them both from any shenanigans.

"Of course."

The second Emma's hair whipped around the corner of the room, Regina slipped the potion out from the drawer she was standing before. She hesitated momentarily, but then thought back to Emma's eyes the night before. Her body language. The way her tortured mind was screaming so silently in all of the empty space between them.

And so with a small pop, Regina uncorked the bottle and let the potion slug and sploosh into the glass, blending flawlessly with the colour of the wine.

Hastily she shoved the cork back in and placed the glass back into the drawer, shoving it shut at the last second. Emma rounded the corner and smiled widely at the scene before her. Regina held up two glasses of wine, one extended in her direction, as the apple tart sat steaming invitingly next to her on the kitchen island.

"Now this I could get used to..." the blonde purred, sliding up and wrapping an arm loosely around Regina's waist. The brunette forced a smile that showed none of her teeth as she made herself lock eyes with the woman she loved more than life itself.

"To our happiness," Emma stated as she raised the glass up, ready to clink it. Regina's smile faltered, only for a moment, before she readied herself for what was to come.

"No," she whispered, "to yours."

Emma eyed her strangely, but shrugged, clinking the lip of their glasses together before bringing it to mouth. She took the first sip, or rather, deep gulp, as Regina watched on with bated breath. Selfishly a part of her hoped the potion didn't work. Selfishly she wished that Emma would figure her out without explanation, accept her the way she was, and they would both live happily ever after.

But then Emma spluttered. And coughed. And the wine glass dropped and shattered on the floor. Regina faintly remembered her shins getting minor cuts in the process. She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. She could do nothing but watch and wait.

Finally, a few minutes later, Emma stopped. She looked around suspiciously, rubbing her head and groaning.

"God, I feel like I've undergone brain surgery..." the blonde mumbled into her hands as she rubbed her face. She removed them, looking up and blinking rapidly as she tried to adjust her eyes to the lighting of the kitchen. Her eyes fell on Regina. For a moment, the brunette thought it hadn't worked. She thought it had all been for nothing. Not for the first time she was filled with a joy she would never willingly admit to. But then...

"Sorry, Mayor, but umm...what am I doing here, exactly?"

And now Regina sat upright in bed, her glasses on and silk teddy going to waste. She glared at the black bottle next to her, the skull and crossbones in white sticking out against the contrast of ebony. Toxic was scrawled underneath the design.

She hadn't poured it in. This wasn't the first time she had wanted to since giving Emma that initial potion. But she found, in the end, she couldn't do it. Her eyes roamed over to the picture frame that appeared empty to the naked eye, but as she waved her hand over it, an image of she and Emma resting their foreheads together in the forest appeared. Her eyes welled up as she gently stroked the photo where the blonde was standing and smirking with her eyes closed.

"Of all my downfalls," Regina muttered into her glass, "you were by far the sweetest."


	3. Chapter 3

Emma stood outside the mayor's house, rocking back and forth on her heels as she stared up at the white two story house. Her eyes flicked over to the apple tree that seemed to always hold it's fruit, no matter what season they were in. It was currently a strange spring, and at night it was cold enough to allow Emma to pull out the same deep red scarf she had been wearing all month. Now that she fidgeted with it in the palms of her restless hands, she looked down at it, puzzled. Where had she gotten it in the first place?...

_Well_, she thought, _I'm here, so I might as well knock._

She crossed her arms defensively, convincing herself that it was because she was cold. In truth, she realized, she was bundled up quite nicely in her brown leather jacket, red scarf, dark jeans and brown boots. She shuddered as she grew closer to the lonely looking manor. The strange designs in the long side view windows weren't allowing too good of a view indoors. There was a light on somewhere down the hallway, though, so she knew someone must be home. Rubbing her hands together and placing them against her lips, Emma blew a puff of warmth against them before raising her right hand to knock. She gave two solid raps before a less threatening third and stood back a few steps, waiting off of the welcome mat.

_Why am I here? Why am I here? Why am I here? Why am I-_

But she never got to finish her fourth line of questioning, for the door opened just wide enough to allow the inhabitant enough room for her fit frame to wedge through.

Emma's eyes widened slightly, for reason unknown to herself, as she took in Regina's appearance: a white silk robe with black trim was wrapped snuggly around her and her hair was damp, dry in certain areas but blotchy and wet in others, giving her an adorable half-dry frizz and the slightest hint of small curls.

"Miss Swan, I wasn't expecting you." Regina crossed her arms tightly to her chest, her toes curling as her teeth chattered slightly in the cool air of the night. Emma characteristically fumbled over her words; her mind was drawing a complete blank.

"Yeah, no, I know, right, um..."

She could have kicked herself. She allowed herself a tiny eye roll once she caught sight of Regina's raised eyebrow and- was that a smile?- slightly impatient huff of disapproval. Emma knew she was keeping her out in the cold, but she couldn't quite invite herself inside. Besides, she didn't know why she was at the other woman's house. She couldn't even think of a decent lie to keep her there until she figured it out.

Regina bit back her smirk as best she could. Part of her heart was breaking at seeing the woman she loved struggle to figure out what drew her here, but the other half of her was still very much in love, and very amused, at her former lover's inability to lie. She drew out an exasperated sigh for show before turning back to the house.

"Come on, then, sheriff. Wouldn't want us to catch a cold out here."

Emma gave a stiff smile that she knew looked like she was trying too hard. In truth, she was. It made her on edge that she found herself walking into the warmth of a house belonging to the very person who cursed everyone in town, including her family.

Regina watched suspiciously out of the corner of her eye as Emma took off her boots and rested them near the coat rack, right next to hers. She saw the blonde hesitate and move slowly, as if the memories were attempting to drown her-as if she were fighting a battle with herself in slow motion. Her movements were fluid and languid. Her eyes lazily took in the entry way, lolling up the path of the stairs and following it to the floor, where the brown hard wood gleamed, showing off its polish. Emma's gaze hit Regina's toe nails, _red_, and slowly made their way up her body. Her gaze lingered in random areas, like the joints of her knees, or the hemline of the short silk robe, or the woman's beautifully elegant hands that were just barely tucked behind her. Emma hadn't realized she was staring at the low V line that Regina's robe allowed at her chest, and only shook herself of her ogling when a throat was cleared before her.

"Is there something you need, Miss Swan?"

Emma froze, her mouth slightly ajar as she took in the other woman's features. _Lie_, Emma thought to herself,_ tell her something! Anything! NOW!_

"Uh-yeah-uh, I," she cleared her throat to hide her stammering, hastily looking around before her eye caught a baseball mitt at the top of the stairs. "Henry! Was looking for Henry..."

Regina furrowed her brow as she took a few steps towards Emma, who subconsciously leaned half of her body forward, and pulled the other half back. The brunette noticed and froze before she came too close, reminding herself that this taunting was not okay.

"Emma, Henry is at your place. He has been for months. It's where he wants to be, I suppose..." Suddenly, true fear sparked in Regina's eyes.

"Wait, why? Is that why you're here? Can you not find him? Emma, is he missing?"

Regina came stalking forward, brow creased as her solemn and concerned expression made it's way closer to the blonde in question. Emma was still reeling from the sound of her first name falling from Regina's lips. She found she was still staring at them when two arms grasped her shoulders and shook her slightly.

"Emma? Emma answer me!"

A dreamy sort of smile danced across the other woman's face. A blush crept up and flooded her cheeks a light pink.

"You said my name," came the hushed response. Regina backed up a bit, confused as ever. What on earth was she talking about?

"What?" she asked. Emma shook her head a bit, biting her lower lip to keep from smiling as she scratched lightly at her upper thighs and looked anywhere but at Regina's deep, brown eyes.

"Nothing I just...I had never heard you say my name before. Emma. You called me Emma..."

Regina deflated. Nothing was wrong with Henry, but something was wrong with Emma. She was getting feelings again, and she didn't know why. This was always the hardest part of nights like this, and Regina truly didn't know if she had time for it that evening. She steepled her fingers in front of her thoughtfully as she came closer to her ex.

"I apologize, Miss Swan, I was just concerned for our so-...for Henry's safety," she said smoothly. Emma shook her head quickly, an arm held out to stop Regina from saying anything else.

"No, no!" she interrupted hastily. "I didn't mind! The opposite, really. I...I liked it. You should say it more often. I mean, well, you have permission to I guess is what I'm trying to say."

Regina watched on with pity as Emma's breathing deepened, watching as the blonde refused to make eye contact with her. She knew that meant that Emma was feeling helpless and embarrassed. The older woman pinched two fingers to the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes to ward off the headache she felt coming on.

"Okay, Emma, I need you to listen to me for a second," she said in her calmest voice possible. Emma finally looked at her, albeit sheepishly, and Regina saw in her eyes that she was beginning to piece things together a bit. "You came here tonight because you missed me. You don't remember why you miss me, and you don't remember what it is you miss, you just know that the feeling was too strong to ignore. And now you're here, and you want answers, but darling, I can't give them to you tonight. I am swamped with work and I-"

"It's okay," Emma interrupted. She smiled shyly, somehow knowing Regina didn't like to be interrupted, but feeling the need to stop her. "I'll just sit in your office while you work. I won't say anything. I just..."

Regina froze as her heart stopped upon hearing Emma's words. So many conversations like this had happened in the past, and it was one of the biggest reasons she and Emma had drifted apart.

"_Regina, what's a nine letter term for 'make up'?"_

"_Eye shadow."_

"_Wrong! Make up __**sex**__."_

"_We're not fighting, Emma."_

"_We will be if you don't take me to bed soon."_

"_I told you. I have to work tonight."_

"_You have to work every night."_

"_Emma, I'm not going to say it again. Either you're in this for all of me, or none of me. And this? Running the town? This is part of me."_

"_I know that, but..."_

"_Why do you sit in here while I work?"_

"_What?"_

"_Why. Do you sit. In here. While I work?"_

"_Because I love being with you, even if that means I'm only with your body while you're mentally somewhere else."_

"You just love being with me, even if you're just with me physically while I'm someplace else," Regina finished for her sadly, heavy with the weight of their memory. The worst thing about losing her lover was that Emma didn't feel it, too. And somehow that made it simultaneously more and less real. She hadn't anticipated Emma would start coming around here, slowly putting the pieces of their affair back in place. The potion wasn't supposed to work like that.

Emma's eyebrows shot up as she heard Regina voice the exact thing that was running through her mind. She had stopped herself from saying it, of course, but still. It was strange that the other woman knew her so well.

"Yeah..." she drew out suspiciously, "that's exactly it."

Regina ran a flustered hand through her still damp hair and huffed, turning around to walk through the doors that led to her office.

"This way, Miss Swan," she said, and turned to see the crestfallen expression of the blonde's. She smiled softly as she verbally retracted her previous statement.

"I'm sorry. Emma. This way, Emma."

A small smirk tugged at the corner of the blonde's lips as she followed Regina into the black and white room. There was already a couch with a folded up blanket and throw pillow situated in the right corner of the room, furthest from the desk. Emma walked to it purposefully and sat at the edge of it. She watched as Regina made her way behind her desk, pulled open the side drawer, and removed her black rimmed glasses. Emma watched her in wonder as she put them on. Before she had been squinting at the mass of papers on her desk, but now her expression was relaxed as she began to read the titles. Sighing deeply as she sunk into her chair, she licked her forefinger and thumb and leaned forward with the papers in her hand, rifling through them quickly. Emma laid down on the couch, taking the blanket and tugging it up under her chin. She punched the pillow a few times and heard a small chuckle sound from her right. She turned suddenly and saw the mayor smiling behind a stack of parchment.

"What's so funny?" Emma asked. Regina paused before lowering the stack in her hands and, smiling towards the ceiling, sighed dreamily.

"You always punch pillows before you lay on them. I asked you why once and with a completely stoic expression you answered, 'Because I like to beat the shit out of things'."

And then, while Emma sat with a confused expression, Regina burst out laughing. A true laugh, one that came from her heart. It warmed Emma completely-she didn't remember ever seeing the brunette actually laugh like this. Not ever. Something nagged at the back of her mind.

"I don't remember that conversation," she whispered. Regina's chuckles stopped immediately, her smile fading slowly, as if someone had slapped her back into reality. She looked at the beautiful blonde on her couch, curled up and curious. A sad smile graced her features as she shook her head.

"No, you wouldn't, would you? You don't remember any of it."

Emma's brows knit in confusion as she sat up on her side, supporting her head by bending her elbow and shoving her fist against her cheek to keep her upright and focused. "Why don't I remember, Regina?"

The other woman looked at the paperwork below her. There were a million things she needed to get done. She knew that should be her first priority. But hearing Emma's voice for the first time in days, seeing that lost and desperate expression, it completely infiltrated her mind. It tugged on the heart she swore she no longer had.

Slowly she took her glasses off and rested them atop the pile of neatly stacked papers. She crossed her hands in front of her, letting her fingers lace through themselves. She waited a moment, sitting pensively, before coming to a conclusion.

She scooted her chair back, the screech being much louder due to the stillness in the room. Softly padding over to Emma, she towered over her, her shadow covering the blonde's face entirely. She could practically hear Emma's heartbeat as she got down on her knees in front of the blonde, the cold marble hitting her bare skin, making her feel more alert than ever. She reached her hands out and ran her fingers through the blonde hair she found, heart racing as she watched Emma's eyes flutter shut at the contact.

"No matter what I have you drink, my touch still renders you speechless, my love..."

She leaned forward and, ever so lightly, kissed the blonde's lips. At first Emma froze, her whole body going eerily still, but then not two seconds later a purple fog began to form around them. A strange glow emitted from the blonde's skin and suddenly life seemed to breathe back into her. She immediately deepened the kiss, a hungry groan vibrating both of their lips as her hands jutted out to capture her lover's face. Her nails caught a tangle in Regina's hair, causing the brunette to gasp a bit.

"Ouch..." chuckled the older woman as she pulled away, rubbing the spot at her neck. Emma's eyes were shining with tears as she looked at her lover with old eyes.

"Baby, why...?"

"Shh..." Regina said, swallowing the familiar lump in her throat as she placed a finger over the blonde's lips.

"But I've missed you so much! Why can't I remember everything? Am I under some sort of sleeping spell? Who did this to me? What happened?"

"Darling," Regina forced out, clearing her throat as the emotions threatened to choke her, "I woke you up because I can't stand another night without you. Now please, don't ask me anything else. Just...take me to bed?"

Emma chewed her bottom lip, nodding fiercely as she cupped Regina's cheek daintily in her palm, her eyes misted over as she took in every bit of her lover's face, swearing she'd memorize it this time.

"Of course."


End file.
